Gateau Affairs
by Grignard
Summary: In which quarks and protons become sugar and spice, head baker of a prestigious shop, Sheldon Cooper, finds himself mentoring a failed actress attempting to get her own bakery off the ground. Shenny.
1. Measure

_Longtime reader, first time submission to this fandom. I'd have to say the BBT fandom had some of the most well-written stories I've seen. This is an alternate universe, one where Penny tried to become an actress but failed, and Sheldon became a baker instead of a physicist._

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><p>Chapter 1 - Measure<p>

Penny Lane glanced over the newly renovated bakery. The walls were perfectly painted (eggshell white, not pearl, and definitely not cream, yes I can see a difference Mr. Contractor!). State of the art blenders, stainless steel ovens and the best tools she could afford were neatly hung around the kitchen. The gleaming countertop had not a speck of dust upon it.

"Dreams" was fully functional, ready and able to make the most delicious, mouthwatering cakes in the city of California. There was just one problem.

Why weren't there any customers?

She gnawed on her lower lip anxiously. This had to work. It just had to.

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Penny had barely been making minimum wage at the Cheesecake Factory when a snarky low tipping customer had pushed her over the edge.

She'd locked herself in her tiny apartment for a weekend, ready to drink herself into a stupor. Maybe even catch a night at a loud club with delectable eye-candy. An evening like that would certainly pick her up.

It wasn't meant to be.

Even fate wouldn't cooperate with her to drown out her sorrows. There wasn't a drop of alcohol in her apartment, and contrary to the western state's perfect weather, the skies had sought to rain cats and dogs instead. Rummaging around the empty cupboards, the only item that met her eyes was a simple box of cake-mix she had bought one day in preparation for a pot-luck she had never attended.

Sighing in regret, at least it was something to do. The box didn't take very many ingredients: an egg or two, some water and vegetable oil. A slightly spilled box of flour and a broken egg later, the girl had everything contained in her biggest kitchen bowl. Every beat of the metal whisk in her white knuckled fingers transferred her frustrations to the batter. From her dead end career (oh, it's another blonde, can you sing?), her failed relationship (sorry babe, I want to pursue other options), to just the sheer emptiness of her life, it all went into the sunny yellow batter.

It was as if her entire soul was cleansed by the time she popped the whole confection into the oven.

As it baked, Penny watched the sweet mound rise in surprising anticipation. It was a treat, made by her own hands, an honest effort.

Yes, the edges were a little brown, and the cake lopsided, but edible all the same. Penny couldn't find any actual frosting, but a sprinkling of sugar makes everything go down.

She had felt reinvigorated and passionate for the first time in her life.

That's what started the bug. Immediately she began scouring the internet for recipes – chocolate, sponge, cream. It was new and different, something she had actual talent in.

A few weeks later, and a few trial and errors, she bit the bullet and bought a homemade mini-cake for a co-worker's birthday at the Cheesecake Factory.

"Penny, this is good!"

"You think so?" her emerald eyes lit up in happiness.

Back in the present, fingers drumming on the countertop, Penny sat contemplating her dilemma.

Her father had his doubts when he helped with the down payment. "Are you sure about this, slugger?"

Her mom smiled tightly, "It's her dream, sweetheart."

Her older sister shook her head with resignation as she bounced her son on her hip.

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Penny frowned. She wanted to escape the sticks of Nebraska, not be knocked up and married (in that order) like her sister and so many others in her high school class. She had the loan, begged for with a pretty smile and estimated economic earnings, the building, and the equipment.

So why didn't she have any customers?

She groaned and blew her golden bangs away with an exasperated huff.

A tingle of bells hung by the door caught her attention.

Finally! She fought the urge to do a fist bump in the air. Someone up there must be listening to her.

The man was tall and skinny. Not the typical type you'd see visiting a bakery. A mess of short cropped dark brown hair, a wide face with long arms and legs, he looked like a praying mantis. A praying mantis who wore two shirts in California. Who knows? Maybe he was buying a cake for a girlfriend.

"How clean is this facility? Are you FDA regulated?"

Nope, definitely no girlfriend. There was no way this stick-in-the-mud had any frequent contact with a girl besides his mother.

But she'd do anything to get a customer.

After submitting her credentials and even a brief walkthrough of her kitchen, the whack-a-doodle, as she so dubbed him, found the conditions adequate to sit down. Well, he sat down after trying four different tables. "Goldilocks" perused the menu with a condescending sneer.

"I'll have a slice of chocolate cake," and with a sniff, the man opened his laptop and buried himself in his work.

Penny knew a dismissal when she saw one. Putting on her best smile, those acting lessons hadn't been for naught, she turned back to prepare his order.

A quick slice of the triple chocolate cake in the back, a dollop of homemade whipped cream, she placed her offering like a slave appeasing an angry god with a clack upon the only occupied table. He was still engrossed in his work.

"Are you one of those Beautiful Mind, genius guys?" she queried in curiosity. Penny couldn't understand a single word on his screen. Something about viscosities and heat transfer equations.

The man's bright, blue eyes blinked in astonishment. "Yeah."

It was a clear invitation for conversation, but the anti-social man merely immersed himself again towards the bright glare of the screen.

Penny sighed. There was no getting to this guy. She tried to give him a cup of coffee, but he had screeched and nearly had a conniption.

"When I moved to California, I promised my mother I wouldn't start doing drugs!"

Again, following a strict series of instructions, she prepared a cup of chamomile tea to accompany his dessert. It was better anyway. Coffee would probably make him into a greater pain-in-the-butt than he already was. The caffeine would probably make him into that superhero, what's-his-name, who could run fast. Penny couldn't help but to smile at the slight southern twang in his voice when he rebuked her earlier.

Her mother called, and Penny chatted with her as she slid the cup and the check to her only customer. She swore she felt his electric blue eyes on her as she argued with her mother, but the moment she turned her way, his face was back on his laptop.

He paid in cash, leaving exactly a 15% tip. The man gathered his things efficiently and without a single goodbye was out the door.

As Penny was bussing the table, she noticed he had scribbled something on her comment card. Delighted, she picked up the cheery yellow card stamped with a simple flower.

_Your cakes are terrible._

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><p><em>This story was inspired by a TVB drama called <em>The Gateau Affairs. _Penny mixing away her worries in batter was taken from a quote about washing rice said by Roy Chei. Spot the Mary Poppins reference. I wrote their first meeting around Sheldon's and Penny's first on the show, back when hew as a little more human._

_Hope you enjoyed the introduction. Please review,_

_Grignard_


	2. Pour

Chapter 2 - Pour

Sheldon Lee Cooper found himself back in front of the same kitschy bakery a week later.

What _was_ he doing back here?

He was the head baker at the prestigious Gateau Affairs, a bakery he had hired onto and, over the years, had singlehandedly raised its reputation within a few short years. With his meticulous instructions, the privileged and humble alike could enjoy his delectable delicacies.

But baking the same cakes could get stale after a while, pardon the pun. Besides a yummy confection, creativity not just with the design on the icing but the entire cake was also a main factor in attracting repeat customers. The man often went anonymously to local bakeries scoping out the latest ideas, or to be inspired himself. Just one month ago, he was motivated to create a pirate boat cake for boys' birthday parties after seeing a poorly constructed attempt down on South Madison Avenue.

Was he stealing other's ideas? Probably. But he had justification! He was taking a poor product and molding it into perfection!

This mediocre shop brought nothing of benefit to him. Her chocolate cake was dry and not particularly noteworthy in taste.

So why was he here again?

He remembered the baker's quiet chatter in the silence of her empty shop.

"_I want to make cakes to make people happy, Momma, and everyone has a smile when they get one. You always see cakes during happy events – birthdays, graduations. Never at funerals. Well, except the time crazy Aunt Lola brought one…"_

Didn't he used to be like that? "Cakes were for happy occasions. Everyone smiles." Had he ever sounded like that? Where had his sense of wonder and naiveté gone to?

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Sheldon could remember exactly when he had discovered his talent in baking. He had been taking part in the rite of passage for all siblings - stealing his sister's precious Easy Bake oven out of jealousy. His bratty twin had insisted on using that contraption to make a treat for their beloved Meemaw. Sibling rivalry had risen up, and at first, he wanted to utilize the bulb to bake substrates for the circuit that went into his homemade robot. Instead he had found himself surprisingly observing the device, and even more so following the instructions to make what was essentially a chocolate brownie.

His Meemaw had smiled declaring that her Moon Pie could make moon pies of his own now.

And he would do anything for Meemaw's approving smile. That was the start of the beginning, baking more and more complex items as he grew. Mary Cooper had plenty of delights to sell for church fundraisers, and soon Sheldon Cooper found himself as one of the youngest students enrolled in Europe's top culinary institute. After graduation he found his sights set on the loftiest goal. His aim: the Stevenson Award, the highest accolade for the best baker in the country. As head baker of Gateau Affairs, he got his first shot at the elusive prize last year.

It had ended in disaster.

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A shake of his head dismissed the errant thought. He needed to stop reminiscing in the past! The present was what was important. He had recipes to review and inventory to take stock of.

And yet he couldn't find himself to turn away from the blonde's bakery. Her words ran over and over again in his mind.

The tall man entered the shop again. The same proprietress with her sun kissed locks and perfectly symmetrical features gave him a ferocious scowl, but with a smirk he noticed she was the only one there.

Beggars couldn't be choosers.

He set his items down warily guarding the delicate areas an irate female could hit (Thank you, Missy!). He perused the menu again, despite his eidetic memory already memorizing the sparse selection.

"Lemon cake, please."

The owner came back with a slice, along with tea perfectly doctored to his preferences.

He gave her a surprised look. She had only served him once before, but then again he had been her only customer. Nevertheless, it was a welcomed positive to a subpar establishment.

Sheldon lingered for a half hour in silence, finishing the last sentences of his latest idea of a new fondant when the gentle tap of the bill landed by his elbow. The same yellow comment card he had written his scathing critique on had the addition of another sentence scribbled beneath in flowery purple pen:

_Why are my cakes so terrible?_

He raised his eyes to meet her sorrowful green orbs. Sheldon panicked slightly. Please don't cry, please don't cry! He couldn't handle a female in distress! His fight or flight response was kicking in, but he didn't know what was in control as the following words slipped from his mouth.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me how you bake a cake."

Penny blinked owlishly. It was a health code violation to let a customer bake in her kitchen, and this was a complete neurotic head case to boot! Still, she nibbled her lower lip, glancing around her empty shop.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

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"No, no no! Good lord, what are you doing woman?!"

"The recipe says to mix the beaten egg whites in!"

"Yes! By folding them, not beating it half to death!"

Penny gritted her teeth. The man had the social skills of a brick! But unfortunately he knew what he was talking about. She never had formal training. Only a few internet instruction videos and cookbooks, but this whack-a-doodle knew the right techniques and described them with military command.

"Angle your wrist to 17 degrees from the horizontal plane of the bowl, and beat approximately for 1.6 minutes."

She stared flabbergasted at him. How on earth was she expected to know what to do with those kinds of instructions?

Her tall teacher huffed and nudged her hand up to the correct angle with the handle of the wooden spoon he was using.

"The human hand has an average of 150 different kinds of bacteria sitting on its surface."

Penny made a face. She definitely did not need to know that! Her phone's ring tone rang out in the silence. As she scurried across the kitchen to silence it, a voice interrupted.

"What song was that?"

"Radiohead," she shrugged apologetically. It probably wasn't his style. He probably listened to Mozart or when he was feeling really crazy, Rachmaninoff.

"Play it."

Astonished, she did as he bid, watching him counting under his breath as the voice of Thom Yorke resonated in the silent kitchen.

"There! Beat the eggs to the rhythm of this song until the end of the chorus."

Penny's face lit up. Now this she could understand!

She hummed along as she replayed the song.

Her companion frowned in annoyance. "You are a half tone lower in pitch, and 0.4 seconds off from the beat."

Penny rolled her eyes, "And this is why I never became an actress."

"Less than 1% of people succeed in reaching that goal."

"And restaurants succeed 10% of the time, so I must be a glutton for punishment."

He turned to her raising an enigmatic eyebrow, "Females are most likely to identify with masochism when compared to men."

The bakery owner's mouth dropped in wonder. Professor Whack-a-doodle was a walking encyclopedia! She had never had a conversation drift from her acting abilities to masochism before.

With surprisingly few snide comments later, they finished the cake, and soon had it decorated within the hour.

"A truly efficient baker can make a cake in an hour, including baking time," her roped-in tutor stated haughtily.

Penny couldn't help scoffing in his direction. Her instructor had his nose stuck permanently in the air!

The man's eyes narrowed and made to lecture her, but her smile had him shutting his mouth with a snap.

As she pulled out sugar for frosting, the man interjected, "A simple frosting, please. Anything more would detract from the chocolate interior."

Penny nodded in acknowledgment actually agreeing with him for once. She disliked overly sweetened cakes herself. The baker soon had a batch of homemade frosting whipped up.

She sliced two identical wedges and plated them with a flourish.

"At least you did this correctly," the man gestured to the icing with his fork.

Penny grinned triumphantly. Finally, a compliment! She would have never expected it from her mysterious stranger.

"It's an old family recipe, with real ingredients. None of that low-fat imitation crap." Both gave a shudder. Those granola health nuts could keep their low calorie abomination, thank you very much!

It was the moment of truth. The blonde baker placed a hearty bite to her lips, expecting her usual quality. Her cakes seemed off no matter what ingredients she used.

An explosion of flavor met her taste buds.

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "This is great!"

Whack-a-doodle sniffed condescendingly. "Of course. Anyone can bake given the proper instruction."

Penny's eyes narrowed. That was a slight against her, she was sure of it, but she was too full of delicious cake to complain.

It was late as the pair left for the night. Her tutor had insisted on carefully reviewing the revised recipe with her in order for the blonde to learn from her mistakes. Penny felt like she was back in school again! Both his and her notes were written into the margins and every blank space the two could find. Hole punched, and tucked away into a binder, with the promise to find a protected laminate sheet to cover it, Penny promised she would treasure it with her life.

As she locked up for the night, ecstatic for the first time since she opened the store, she exclaimed a heartfelt thank you to her unknown savior. It was on her lips to ask for his name, but the man, nodding in acknowledgment to her gratitude, turned on his heel and walked away into the night.

As he turned the corner, Sheldon made a mental note to make an appointment with his usual cardiologist.

There had to be a medical reason for his unexpected heart palpitations whenever he saw the owner's beautiful smile.

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><p><em>A usual, many moments in this story were taken from the original source material, the Big Bang Theory tv show.<em>

_Please review,_

_Grignard_


	3. Mix

Chapter 3 - Mix

It was preposterous! That medical quack said he was in picture perfect health! Perhaps Sheldon was manifesting some hysterics, or it was all psychological symptoms from over-work.

The man shook his head wearily. Maybe the doctor was right. Why else would his footsteps take him _here_ again a week later? It was a run-of-the-mill bakery with a ditzy, chaos-filled owner.

An owner who was currently boxing a cake for a customer.

Penny gave her tall, neurotic stranger a beaming smile before turning back to address the customer.

"Thanks for your order. Hope to see you again!" she chirped.

Penny set out a small piece of a duplicate cake on the counter.

Sheldon was pleased to see she had followed his instructions, and had replicated the chocolate confection perfectly.

Baking differed from cooking. Anyone could deviate from a recipe for cooking, an added ingredient here and there, but a missed step or substituted ingredient could leave a baker with a brick instead of a moist cake.

Shyly, the blonde slid the lemon cake recipe in his direction along with his perfectly prepared cup of tea.

Briskly they headed back in the kitchen where he instructed her on the perfect ratio of sweetness to sour.

"You don't use safety goggles when squeezing lemons?!" he squawked leaping a foot away from the bowl.

Penny stifled a groan. Yup, he was still a walking basket-case.

Again, thanks to his impeccable instruction, and her patience in not punching him in the throat, the unlikely duo had another delicious creation in front of them.

"I've discovered your problem," he hypothesized as he took the initiative to make a whipped cream from scratch in one of her purple ceramic bowls. The woman perked up eager to hear his theory.

"You're in such a hurry to present your cakes that you rush through the proper baking procedures. They end up tasting, well, let's just say that I think Meemaw's pigs wouldn't even touch them."

Penny scowled, but had to admit the man was right. She tended to get so overzealous in her baking that she ended up with a pile of inedible mush in her haste to serve them.

"For example," he continued, "Egg whites need to be beaten into stiff peaks. Stop beating them too soon and you end up with a liquid mess. With the correct amount of time…"

With a shriek Penny gasped as the neat freak upended the bowl over his head.

Not one drop of the whipped confection touched a single brown hair of his.

Awestruck, she could only nod in agreement as her companion turned the bowl right side up and placed a dollop of his creation onto her slice of lemon cake.

And darn the robot-man, it tasted delicious as usual.

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Sheldon soon found himself with another routine in his scheduled week as the months followed.

After his daytime affairs were complete, the tall, young man would make his way into the bakery, staying as long as it took to instruct her on a specific dessert. Each delicacy ranged from baked to no-bake, simple to decadent. In doing so she began to attract more and more customers during regular hours. So much so that he had to wait until after hours to teach her, much to his surprise. Soon the blonde had made enough profit to even hire full time help.

And each time, they parted without a word of their identities to the other.

It was a Friday, and Sheldon entered her quaint domain, no longer quiet but a busy bustle of activity.

It was logical, he bargained with himself, to continue visiting her no-name establishment. The green-eyed baker knew well of his quirks and memorized how he prepared his tea. Her health codes were all up to date. His spot was reserved, and as the owner, she took it upon herself to serve him personally, always giving him that same jubilant smile.

Those he worked with never greeted him like that, he thought with a touch of bitterness.

Unknowingly his companion distracted him from morose thoughts as she served him a slice of carrot cake, and the instructions so he could began analyzing and commenting on its flaws in preparation for tonight. After he finished his work, of course.

No Cornhusker, judging by her mid-west accent and colloquialisms, was going to get in the way of his life's ambitions!

She gave him a nod, and whisked herself away to serve another waiting customer.

A gaggle of girls twittered behind him gossiping if he and the owner were an item.

"He's always staying late after hours with her."

"But what about that bouncer she flirts with?"

Sheldon glanced up.

Yes, that neanderthal was there, Kurt something. All muscle and no brain, much like the jocks and bullies in his youth who picked on him and stole his baked treats in their grubby hands. The "gorilla" would, of course, be exactly her type if the fluttering eyelashes and hand resting on Kurt's muscular bicep were any indication of preference.

Sheldon shifted uncomfortably. He was tempted to gauge her heartbeat. His cardiologist had offered that as a sure sign of attraction and elevated hormones. Not him of course. He was Homo Novus and as such above these trivial matters.

The girls drew his attention back to their chatter. "Oh you know she's just getting him to buy her cakes."

The one that Sheldon dubbed the intelligent one snorted, "A guy with that kind of muscled body doesn't eat cakes. She better make it clear where things stand with him."

The teenager's words must have been fate (or hokum as he tried to convince his mother) as the owner was taking out the trash, and the gorilla followed.

Sheldon was out of his chair like a shot.

"Whoa! Did he hear us?" the trio wondered amongst themselves.

The lanky man approached the (germ filled!) alley warily. Already he could hear raised voices.

"Babe, come to the club this weekend. A little music, some drinks and dancing, followed by some _fun_."

Sheldon snorted at the blatant mention of coitus.

"Listen Kurt, that sounds like a great night, but I can't go today. I have to close up the shop."

Running a business wasn't exactly a 9 to 5 job. Though she could afford enough to hire on staff during the day, she still had to balance the books, take inventory of the stock, and revise the menu after hours. The bakery had definitely put a damper on her social life.

The brute's eyes narrowed. He wasn't used to getting turned down by girls. This chick should be grateful that he had put in the effort to visit her shop for the past couple of weeks. With other girls, sometimes all it took was a flash of his biceps to get them in his arms.

Penny clenched her hands together struggling not to go Junior Rodeo on him. Months with her baking mentor surely helped with reigning in her temper.

"But I bought all of those cakes from you!" he tried justifying.

Her eyes flashed with emerald fire. "All right, I admit I flirted with you to buy some of my cakes. I'm sorry I led you on, but a few cakes don't give you the right to ask me to jump into bed with you!"

Kurt turned white with rage, and he loomed forward towards the petite baker in fury.

Sheldon against all sense of preservation, his dreams, and his future progeny stepped out into the alley heroically placing himself between the beauty and the beast.

"Like she said, she has to close the shop today and thus cannot fulfill your request of her." The blonde baker's unexpected rescuer slid a bright pink phone in front of the towering man's eyesight. A full calendar cleared the bouncer's vision of anger for a moment.

"However, if you desire female company," Sheldon wet his lips nervously, "I'm sure she could arrange a girl's night out for her many alcohol imbibing girl friends?"

He gave a searching glance to the woman, who nodded slowly.

Penny's friends had called her recently, begging for a night out with them, but she was elbow deep in mixing custards with her whack-a-doodle, so she bailed on the invitation. She could surely make up for that faux-pas with them and Kurt by putting them together. The girls would not say no to a dumb beefcake now and then.

Kurt studied Penny's phone warily. Every day in her calendar was full of bakery tasks, nights and weekends included.

"If you weren't working at the bakery, you'd be free to visit the club, right?"

The two both nodded.

"She's much too busy with the shop. If she wasn't working, she'd have a lot more spare time for you," Sheldon insisted.

The larger man nodded slowly, his primitive brain waves struggling to make all of the appropriate connections.

"You're her…"

"…business partner," Penny interjected. "He helps me with the bakery."

"The bakery is the only reason why you see him?" Kurt queried.

"Yup."

Sheldon flinched as the girl popped the last "p" in her answer. Infuriating woman! She knew how much he hated that.

The bouncer gave them both a strange look, but turned and trudged (loped, Sheldon thought) down the alley leaving the two alone.

Sheldon found himself with an armful of the green-eyed girl before he could shout "Danger!"

"Thank you," she breathed against his chest, and released him before his twitches could overwhelm him.

Okay, Penny thought, I may have crossed a line, but come on! Her stranger came in like a freakin' knight-in-shining armor to save her! It was like when Rhett rescued Scarlet in Gone with the Wind, or when the Dread Pirate Roberts had dueled for Princess Buttercup. Heck, it was even like that one time she was playing Age of Conan and a player named Sheldor something had come up out of the blue to keep her from being mauled by a rampaging troll.

This was ten times better than fiction.

Free of her embrace, he could finally breathe. The blonde had smelt of vanilla and something entirely unique his sensitive olfactory nerves could not define. His heart was beating a mile a minute. "I'm glad you were not hurt by that subspecies of the genus _Homo Sapien_. I hope you'll be more careful in the future," he lectured. With a quick brush of long fingers against his Green Lantern tee looking for invisible dust, he glanced at his feet mumbling, "I have become accustomed to visiting here."

You, I have become accustomed to visiting you, a strange inner voice inside him demanded to say.

Penny filled with a warm happiness she had never felt before could only grin in amazement. Her whack-a-doodle was so adorable when he wasn't being a pain-in-the-neck.

Hang on…

"Wait, you picked my pocket!"

Sheldon scoffed, "If you call pockets on those things you're wearing pants, then yes I did."

Penny growled. Any red blooded male with eyes and a pulse would have appreciated her short shorts, thank you very much! She guessed she had to make an exception for her whack-a-doodle as per usual.

"You hacked into my phone?!"

"Your birthday isn't an appropriate code!"

Penny forced herself to calm down. How could she want to kiss someone and slug them at the same time?

"Come on, let's go inside," she sighed, shaking her head wearily at her conflicting thoughts.

To her confusion, after they entered her shop, her savior insisted on personally buying slices of the cake of the day for the three giggling girls nearest to his reserved table.

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As they closed up for the night, Sheldon cleared his throat nervously, "In all of the pandemonium, I forgot to mention that my work requires that I attend a conference in Germany next week."

Penny's mouth dropped open in surprise. Just what did her mysterious partner do for a living anyway? She thought he was some boring science geek, but his baking skills were out of this world.

Sheldon frowned. Why was he acting like a shy child in front of her? He was a grown man, on his own since he was twelve years old! He had tarried too long already with this little bakery. He had his own dreams to fulfill. One that was slightly on hiatus, but this disorganized baker had reinvigorated his passion for baking again.

If he could use her talents at Gateau Affairs…

No, he stopped that errant thought in its tracks before he could complete it. She had her own bakery. She was already living her dream and probably wouldn't give it up for anything. Sheldon couldn't be selfish. He had to resume his own goals.

The owner of "Dreams" smiled fondly as they parted ways.

"Have a safe flight."

"Statistically you're more likely to have an accident in your car, than be involved in an airplane crash," her tall rescuer rattled out. "You should really get that engine check light looked at." A brief pause then, "I'll see you when I return."

Her face transformed into a smile so bright it could have lit up the entire state alone.

Well, if the action of contracting the Zygomaticus major and minor muscles and the luminosity of ones' teeth could be harnessed into electrical energy to power the California grid, but anyway, the man digressed.

Sheldon had started initially teaching her out of insanity, yet now he wanted to continue just to see that megawatt smile again.

If he was any other man Penny would have jumped his bones ages ago, but because it was him, she restrained herself. He probably wouldn't know what to do with himself. Heck, she probably wouldn't know what to do with him; he was so alien in nature, but she looked forward to getting to know him.

They parted ways like they did every night. The man and woman both thought that after a week's delay, they could resume their pattern of laughing, scolding, and most importantly, baking in each other's company.

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A week later and Sheldon found his way back in the area, a box of German chocolate in his hands as an early morning offering to the blonde. He had learned the hard way not to approach her before the clock struck eleven, but he couldn't wait until the evening hour to see her presence. He chose to visit her at the store's opening, to check on the bakery's progress obviously, not because of the woman running it. The green-eyed baker would love this confection in her cakes if he could stop her from consuming the sweet beforehand.

He picked up his pace to keep the chocolate from melting in California's balmy heat. He rounded the corner expecting to see the cheery establishment.

Only to be greeted by the burnt out remains of her bakery instead.

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><p><em>Yes, a cliffhanger. The whipped cream experiment was from the TVB drama Gateau Affairs and Gordon Ramsay did the same on Master Chef Junior.<em>

_Please review,_

_Grignard_


	4. Bake

Chapter 4 - Bake

Sheldon knocked frantically on the wooden door of the flower shop across the street from "Dreams." The nosy owner was always there, clucking her tongue disapprovingly at all of the kids and teenagers which hung around the bakery. That demographic typically did not purchase any of her floral wares.

"Please! What happened to the bakery? Was anyone hurt?"

Mrs. Vartabedian took pity on the agitated man. She had often seen the tall pair together as they left each night from the bakery.

"Oh dear. The shop caught fire two nights ago. An electrical accident the fire marshal said. Luckily it happened in the middle of the night when no one was there."

Sheldon sighed and almost slumped against the doorway in relief.

_She_ wasn't hurt!

Sheldon ran back through his eidetic memory. The electrical wiring in her building was entirely up to code. He had checked the layout himself much to her exasperation.

The older woman leaned in surreptitiously, "They say that a large, muscular man was seen running from the area soon before the shop burned."

Her companion frowned though not at the blatant invasion of his personal space. There was only one man who fit that description that came to Sheldon's mind.

The gorilla! But why?

The head baker's words came back to him in a rush – "She's much too busy with the shop. If she wasn't working, she'd have a lot more spare time for you."

He gasped reeling in shock. It was his fault! His blundering words had often gotten him in trouble in the past but never had he caused such grievous harm to another. That terrible misfortune had happened to the blonde baker brought a blow to his psyche.

He should make amends. Wait, he _could_ make amends. An idea that Sheldon had struggled to squelch frequently reasserted itself again in the maelstrom of his thoughts. It was perfect.

The tall man slid long fingers into his pocket to pull out his business card.

_Gateau Affairs_

_Sheldon Lee Cooper, Head Baker_

The blonde owner wasn't financially stable enough to rebuild. With the insurance payment, she'd be lucky to break even. She was just making a profit recently in the past weeks.

She would make a suitable addition to his team. She'd be tough enough to reign in Howard, pretty enough to entrance Leonard, sweet enough to tolerate Raj's mutism, and especially stubborn enough to handle his own genius.

"Would you like me to tell her anything?" Mrs. Vartabedian asked noticing the man fidgeting slightly.

A flashback to last year's disastrous Stevenson's attempt caught his breath.

No! More people only meant more bitter betrayal!

_She_ wouldn't do that to you, a voice whispered, but then again he had never expected a knife in the back from his handpicked teammates.

"No, no thank you," he choked out.

Sheldon angrily shoved the card back into his pocket, and he left the florist's in stilted steps. Let the chaos theory of the universe decide. He had his own goals to attend to.

They would not include her.

TBBTTBBTTBBTTBBTTBBT

Penny Lane curled up in her bed weeping softly.

Her shop! Her wonderful bakery was gone.

The girl sniffled quietly, tempted to run out and grab the nearest bottle of liquor, but no, she needed a clear head.

She couldn't rebuild her shop. The bank wouldn't extend a second loan due to her situation being considered a liability. She wasn't willing to put her family into debt. She refused to take any more money from them. It was hard enough to watch their strained faces on her first loan.

After she had worked so hard, and "Dreams" was finally being frequented by more customers, her bakery she had raised from near bankruptcy had burned down.

Witnesses had reported seeing a large figure running away from the scene minutes before the building became a blazing inferno, but without security camera footage or a positive identification the police could do nothing.

It had to be him! It must have been Kurt!

Where was _he_? Where was her whack-a-doodle in shining armor?

Her eyes flashed. No she didn't need anyone to save her. She had depended on _him_ far too much. Yes, the man had brought her out of the trouble she was in before, but wishing he was here now was not helping. She could do this. Not to sound cliché, but she didn't need a man to help her with any of her problems. She was Queen P!

Speaking of which, the blonde pulled out her laptop. Maybe a little troll slaying would put her in a better mood.

As her homepage loaded up, she saw a brightly colored advertisement listed on the side. Her penchant for searching for baking recipes and equipment guaranteed that the spam bots did their work.

_Interested in a creative culinary job that allows you to meet with renowned celebrities?_

_Come sign up! Gateau Affairs!_

What the frack? Did a five year old design that advertisement?

Gateau Affairs. That was one of the most elite bakeries in the city. It was said that social starlets like Paris and Kim personally had to beg the shop to even order cakes for their birthday bashes. It was that good.

The head baker was known to be eccentric though. It was rumored he was so cold; his hands could physically hold the thinnest sliver of chocolate and not have it melt at his touch.

It was a sign. This was the perfect opportunity for her.

If she got hired, perhaps even one day, she could find her neurotic savior and thank him for training her so well. Maybe she could get him a position there too, and together they could overturn the baking world on its head!

TBBTTBBTTBBTTBBTTBBT

"You did what?!" Sheldon exploded before his cowering coworkers.

Howard jumped behind Leonard while Raj held his hands up in self-defense.

An irate Sheldon was never a good thing.

Leonard adjusted his glasses nervously in front of the tall baker. "Gablehauser said we needed some new blood around here. Our profit margins have suffered during the past few months."

Sheldon clenched his hands in anger. He had been distracted ever since the Stevenson incident, but his creativity had flourished recently like never before.

It was only because…

He wondered what she was doing.

The man scowled. She was a distraction, nothing more! He didn't even know her name. He was still waiting for the universe to speak.

Gablehauser only thought of the big name clients, but Sheldon knew his shop was frequented by all walks of life. Like she had said, cake was a joy for all.

Stop it!

The trio watched Sheldon's face twitch and react with some strange conniption. Were those actually emotions showing in their head robot baker?

He was so distant after the disaster of last year's Stevenson attempt, but for a few months following the incident he'd almost been normal even finding joy in his work. Suddenly, out of the blue last week, he'd pulled a 180, snapping at even the smallest infraction. Howard's singing and dancing plastic plant figurine would never be the same.

"Did you switch out his bran fiber cereal, Leonard?"

"No, not this time."

Sheldon ignored their petty, whispered comments.

Hiring someone new. A flash of vibrant green eyes.

It would be easy to look up her information online in the restaurant business databases. He could probably hack into the bank loan paperwork within an hour. She wouldn't betray him. She'd poke, laugh, and outright yell at him, but betray? Never.

The head baker sighed. These what-if's were giving him a headache.

"Fine, if that's what Gablehauser wants."

Sheldon retreated to hide away in his office, not to be disturbed on pain of scouring the kitchen from top to bottom.

His companions glanced at each other in surprise. That was too easy. Did an alien replace Sheldon?

TBBTTBBTTBBTTBBTTBBT

"Each applicant is to bake a simple yellow cake. At each station are the ingredients necessary to create your entry."

Leonard made the announcement to the assembled candidates as they borrowed the local culinary school's teaching kitchen for the hiring process. The facility had advantageously the greatest number of state-of-the art ovens situated in one enormous room.

He continued on, "No decoration or frosting is required."

That was common sense. A baker who could provide the most beautiful creation, but if the base tasted horrible, no one would buy it.

Leonard's eyes landed upon a pretty blonde unpacking her kitchen tools in the last row.

Wow! She's gorgeous, he thought in admiration. It would take a miracle for her to join the team though.

"You have one hour. Begin!"

A couple of the entrants looked panicked as time started.

Leonard made his way to the rest of the bakers from Gateau Affairs at the front of the room. Those would be eliminated. An hour was plenty of time to make a cake. While not as demanding as the dinner rush hour at a restaurant, a last minute order from an impatient client was possible in their line of work.

Now where was Sheldon?

Ordinarily their head baker would have had an imperious hand in everything, wanting to personally peruse the resumes beforehand, eliminating those not worthy of the Gateau Affairs name.

The tall form soon joined the trio silently from the back room, a stern expression on his face. "Let's begin."

The team made notes and evaluated each potential baker as they traveled up and down the aisle of ovens.

Sheldon, of course, was typically harsh, not bothering to hide his contempt at some of their ineptness.

"You're using an excessive amount of equipment!" Gesturing to the dirty, used blenders, mixers, and utensils spread across an applicant's station and the floor, he snarled, "It's not rocket science!"

To another poor soul, he snapped, "You're wasting ingredients! Keep your station clean!"

The man had spilled flour and broken eggs all over the countertops.

Sheldon grimaced. A messy kitchen was ripe for bacterial disease, mold, and heaven forbid roaches!

Leonard, Howard, and Raj looked at each other in despair. They had to hire someone, but who could fit Sheldon's exacting standards?

He went up and down the rows continuing to critique as he went.

A woman's long hair not being tied back was a food hazard. A man who didn't pre-heat his oven would be serving a pile of uncooked batter to the judges. Another entrant smelled funny. This one _whistled_ while he baked!

TBBTTBBTTBBTTBBTTBBT

Penny flipped through the pages of what she dubbed "The Book," making sure she had covered every step before placing her batter into the oven. Each and every single page was filled with the recipes she and her whack-a-doodle had personally worked on, adjusting them to perfection. It was lucky she had kept the binder with her instead of at the shop the night of the fire.

With a clean 38 minutes left on the clock, she had plenty of opportunity to bake thanks to her mentor's time saving tips. Loud voices met her ears, but she was too engrossed in setting the pan into the oven.

Sheldon huffed as they approached the back of the last station. The entrant had her posterior bent, positioned perfectly in front of the boys' eye line, and the bakers were practically salivating at the sight.

"Look," Leonard whispered to Raj. "That's the girl I saw before." He was already imagining teaching tall, blonde haired children how to use a mixer in a picturesque, sunny kitchen.

Sheldon turned to glare at them, silencing them with a severe look.

The trio deflated visibly. They doubted the uptight man would find a reason to hire a pretty girl.

The head baker of Gateau Affairs turned and stepped forward towards the girl to deliver a nasty rebuke to the long-haired, blonde candidate, but to his surprise the baker had a clean, neat station and was already baking her dish.

He … he couldn't have done better if he tried!

Sheldon silently slid just behind her as she straightened. Maybe she had some kind of physical flaw – too much garish makeup, or some odiferous perfume.

Penny stood and turned back around to tidy up the rest of her station, only to run nose-to-nose with the head baker himself! No one could miss the tall white hat of the bakery supervisor.

Startled emerald eyes met familiar sky blue ones.

And the world held its breath.

* * *

><p><em>Yeah, a drama like Gateau Affairs gets pretty insane. I like the initial storyline, but then the girl usually blows something out of proportion or does something stupid towards the later episodes. As always most of the plot comes from the TVB series. The kitchen set up and some of the inept bakers comes from me binge watching Season 3 of Masterchef (go Christine Ha!). Sorry for the cliffhanger. This was originally one chapter, but it was extra long so I had to divide it into two.<em>

_Many thanks to those who've reviewed._

_Grignard_


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